


An Interrogation Gone Wrong

by NerdFromOuterSpace



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Male Slash, Non-Consensual Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 18:10:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21378364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdFromOuterSpace/pseuds/NerdFromOuterSpace
Summary: WARNING: Contains Non-Consensual Spanking and M/M relationships-Don't like, don't readChase Devineaux interrogates Mime Bomb in episode 8 and throws him against the wall in an attempt to intimidate him, but what if he takes it a step further? Chase will do ANYTHING to retrieve that 10 million dollar stamp, and prove himself to ACME!
Relationships: Chase Devineaux & Mime Bomb
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	An Interrogation Gone Wrong

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**WARNING: This content is rated 18+ It contains Non-consensual Spanking, M/M sex, Dubious Consent, Stockholm Syndrome, and lots of other questionable content.**

**If you're not over 18, or you do not like the contents in the warning, then do not read.**

**Flames will be deleted as they are not welcome.**

**All persons in this story are over the age of 18.**

**I do not own Carmen Sandiego or any of its characters. If I did, things would be a lot more pervy.**

**This is a fic to go along with the wonderful Arkham Insanity's comic that he drew. This fanfic is a ** **re-imagining** ** of Season 1 Episode 8 in which Mime Bomb steals a $10 million stamp. Everything is the same story-wise until we get to the interrogation. ;-)**

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**An Interrogation Gone Wrong**

**Ch.1**

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Chase Devineaux was in a foul mood before he even laid eyes on the mime. Everything seemed to be going wrong that day, and Julia constantly nagging at him didn't help. That's why when she pointed out a nearby mime on the street and asked him if he found that suspicious, he immediately dismissed her.

"Another street clown, so what? San Francisco is filled with them." he glared at her, daring her to contradict him.

She did so immediately of course. "I think it's the same one from last night."

Chase turned his glare on the lanky mime, noting the red hair and outfit, and had to admit the mime did look familiar. Perhaps it did bear some investigation.

"You there!" he yelled out at the top of his voice.

The mime immediately turned to run and Chase wasn't about to lose another possible lead.

"Stop!" he bellowed out, charging after him.

Chase pounced on the much slower mime with a lot more force than was necessary and was satisfied when the man hit the ground. Chase then looked him up and down. No, **boy** would be a better description. The mime didn't look any older than eighteen or nineteen. Hoping this wasn't going to be dead end after all, Chase planted his knee in the mime's back as he grabbed his hands to cuff them.

The mime struggled beneath him, and Chase gave him a hard shake in warning, and then jerked him to his feet roughly. The boy kicked out at him, hitting him in the shin, and Chase felt his patience waning. He gave him another hard shake, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out an ACME issued interrogation hood. He held it in front of the Mime's face.

"One more ounce of trouble and I'm putting this bag over your head!" he threatened.

Surprising enough, the mime went still, and Chase gave a satisfied nod.

"I believe there is a location nearby we can bring him in for questioning." Julia stated.

Chase gave a nod. "Lead the way, Miss. Argent."

As they led Mime Bomb across the street, no one noticed they were being watching by Carmen Sandiego from a nearby roof. She stared for a moment in amusement and then shook her head.

"Hopefully Devineaux is good at charades..."

Carmen would keep an eye out because Mime Bomb was bound to escape from the bungling idiot of a detective eventually.

As Chase forced Mime Bomb down the street, the mime suddenly drove his head backwards straight into Chase's face, the detective releasing his grip on reflex. As Chase clutched his bloody nose, Mime Bomb took off running, this time at a much greater speed than before. He definitely wasn't expecting to be suddenly tackled from behind by Agent Argent. When he glanced over his shoulder at her, she was frowning down at him as she held him, clearly having no intentions of moving her knee from his back. Chase wiped the blood from his face and was so furious, he could have rung the mime's neck. Stomping over, he grabbed the back of the mime's shirt and then jerked him to his feet roughly. He then shook him so hard and so angrily that Mime Bomb's teeth rattled.

"You were warned." Chase snapped, putting the hood over the mime's head. "Any more trouble and I'll cuff your ankles too."

Mime Bomb knew when he was beat, and decided to go along with this for now until he had an opportunity for escape. He doubted he had much to worry about from the incompetent detective, but his partner seemed a lot sharper. He'd have to keep an eye on her.

They walked for several minutes before finally coming to a stop.

"It's right here, Sir." Julia said, pointing to the brick wall beside them. "Just scan your card and the door will open."

Chase dug around in his coat pocket and then switched to the other pocket. A look of alarm crossed his face as he then started digging through every pocket in the coat.

"Perhaps you left your keycard in another jacket?" Julia suggested.

"I always wear my lucky coat when I am working." Chase responded a little defensively. "And I only have **one** lucky coat."

Julia gave him a skeptical look as she adjusted her glasses. "Sir, were you wearing this coat when you drove into the Swiss lake? Or when you fell onto the windshield of your car?"

Chase quickly interrupted her, waving a hand dismissively. "Never mind that." he snapped and then let out a sigh of resignation. "Please just use **your** keycard, Miss. Argent."

Wisely saying nothing, Julia stepped forward and swiped her keycard in front of the panel. A door opened in the wall, and Chase's bad mood only increased. Grabbing the mime roughly, he pushed him into the building, and then closed the door after them. Shoving the mime down a long hallway, they came to an interrogation room, and they entered, seeing the only item of furniture in the whole room was a single wooden chair. Shoving Mime Bomb down into the chair, Chase turned on the light above him, and then reached out and ripped the hood from the mime's head.

The mime looked a little bit disorientated for a moment before he shook his head and focused his gaze on the two agents in front of him. Chase crossed his arms aggressively and then stepped back to stand beside his partner.

"What is your connection to Carmen Sandiego?" he demanded.

Mime Bomb gave him a helpless look, having no way to answer even if he wanted to.

"Speak up! You do **not** have the right to remain silent!" Chase said, pointing an angry finger in the mime's face.

Mime Bomb knew this was his opportunity to get himself uncuffed and he held up his hands, shooting an innocent smile towards the two agents. Julia eyed him for a moment and then turned to her partner.

"Perhaps we need to allow him to answer in his own way?" she suggested.

Chase looked skeptical and a little bit exasperated. "Go on." he said, waving towards the cuffs.

Julia pressed a button on her phone and a moment later the cuffs beeped and fell to the floor. With practiced ease, Mime Bomb lifted his hands and began motioning, Chase looking fed up.

"Three words, first syllable." Chase said, watching as Mime Bomb started the most complex pantomime he'd ever seen.

He stared for a moment and then began his guess. "An elephant. Giving a pedicure? Giving **you** a pedicure! While spreading cheese...on a baguette. On Bastille Day?!"

Mime Bomb stared in disbelief and then slapped a hand to his face in exasperation. Giving Chase a tired look, he motioned with a hand as if to say 'Really?'

"This is ridiculous, what is he saying?!" Chase demanded, his patience starting to fray.

Julia glanced sideways at her partner, adjusted her glasses and then translated. "He insists he was merely performing on the street. He has never heard of any Carmen Sandiego. He says he is innocent."

Mime Bomb gave a satisfied nod at Julia, relieved at least **someone** in the room didn't have the IQ of a baguette. The cocky smirk on his face made Chase snap and an instant later he had grabbed the mime by the front of the shirt and slammed him into the wall.

"You are **not** innocent! Carmen Sandiego stole the stamp and you are her courier!"

The sudden attack caught Mime Bomb by surprise and he winced at the hard impact. Chase was a seasoned detective, and he'd be damned if he allowed some little boy playing dress-up to jeopardize his case. He was through playing nice!

"You are carrying the stamp! Admit it! Give it to me!" Chase bellowed, his temper finally let loose.

Knowing he had to hide the stamp before the detective searched him, Mime Bomb was just about to reach into his pocket to get it when Chase suddenly yanked him away from the wall. Gripping the mime tightly by the elbow, he began dragging him back towards the chair, expression thunderous.

"That's it! I'm **done** with your childish games!"

Julia took a step forward in concern. "Chase, what are you doing!?" she demanded.

"Taking matters into my own hands." he replied, pulling the chair over to him.

Placing one foot on top of the chair, he then seized Mime Bomb under the arms and easily lifted the boy over his knee. Mime Bomb froze in surprise, but the second his pants were yanked down to his knees, he realized what was about to happen. Frantically waving at Chase to stop, the detective ignored him as he pulled the boy's boxers down as well. Mime Bomb struggled to break the hold but in the position he was in, he couldn't get any leverage to get away.

Julia was staring at her partner in utter shock, unable to believe what he was about to do. "Sir, I don't think this is allowed!" she protested.

Chase didn't look concerned as he adjusted Mime Bomb into a better position. "ACME gave us clearance to use all force necessary during interrogations."

"I somehow don't think this is what they meant..."

Chase lifted one of his well-callused hands above his head, and Mime Bomb watched him over his shoulder nervously.

"One last chance, clown, where is the stamp?"

Mime Bomb began frantically miming something, and Chase scowled down at him, bringing his hand down hard across the pale bottom with a loud slap. "No more games. I will only listen to words."

Mime Bomb jumped at the first swat, the sting a lot more intense than he was expecting. He turned to look up at Chase just as the man brought his hand down a second time. Mime Bomb frantically shook his head, and tried to squirm away, but Chase's grip was like steel, and he couldn't move so much as an inch. As Chase brought his hand down over and over with determination, Agent Argent let out a deep sigh and raised a hand to her face in exasperation.

"Honestly Sir..."

Chase ignored her, as well as Mime Bomb, who was still trying to desperately mime something to him. He focused on releasing all of his anger and frustration on the mime's rear, pleased to note the skin was already starting to turn a pale shade of pink. He directed most of his swats on the sit-spot, wanting to ensure the mime felt it the next time he tried to sit down.

Mime Bomb had never been in this position before, his own parents never raising a hand to him. He'd received the occasional swat if he was especially bad, but never a real spanking. He'd pretty much gotten away with murder growing up because he was a mute and everyone felt sorry for him. He had always cried easily, and all he'd ever had to do was shed a few tears and everyone instantly flocked to comfort him. He'd seen the other kids in his neighborhood catch it all the time from their parents, but he was content to remain spoiled and untouchable.

Even at VILE, where they believed firmly in corporal punishment for their students, the teachers were hesitant to lay a hand on him. The closest he had come was when he had been caught touching Shadowsan's decorative sword without permission. Shadowsan had immediately seized him, bent him over a desk, reached for a belt and Mime Bomb had instantly burst into hysterical tears. It was such an overreaction that it had thrown Shadowsan off his game and he had simply stared down at him, not sure what to do. Taking pity on the poor mute boy, he had given him a single hard swat with the belt and then ordered him to clean the classroom. He had done it without complaint, knowing how lucky he'd been to get away with such a thing. The swat had really stung, and despite only getting one, it had still made sitting uncomfortable for the rest of the afternoon. He'd made sure to always be on his best behavior in Shadowsan's class from then on, knowing he probably wouldn't be so lucky twice. He'd never received more than one or two angry swats for any of his transgressions during training.

Mime Bomb looked back at Chase and felt tears make their way to his eyes. He was getting desperate as the pain was quickly reaching unbearable levels, and he knew his only chance of getting out of this was if Chase took pity on him. Reaching back to cover his sore bottom, he forced Chase to pause a moment, and the detective glanced at his tear-filled eyes and then swatted the hands out of his way impatiently.

"None of that." he scolded. "Unless you want me to pin your arms out of the way, I suggest you keep them in front of you."

Mime Bomb shook his head and let the tears flow, his expression the definition of contrite and miserable. He began kicking and struggling with all his might, but Chase was much stronger and he couldn't avoid a single swat. Chase ignored his antics, simply bringing his hand down all the harder. The sting just kept getting worse and worse and Mime Bomb quickly realized his tears were genuine, and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Now, I am going to ask you **again**, where is the stamp?" Chase demanded.

At this point, Mime Bomb could care less about the stamp and started to mime where it was.

He was quickly stopped when Chase started hitting even harder. "Words only, **mime**." the detective ordered. "I'm done playing your games. I practice tennis three times a week as a hobby and I can keep this up for **hours**. It's your choice."

Mime Bomb began to silently sob, the tears streaming down his face and ruining his make-up. He once again tried to tell Chase where the stamp was, but the detective wasn't even looking at him. Deciding to just hand him the stamp, Mime Bomb reached back towards his pants pocket. Chase thought he was attempting to cover himself again, and his reaction was immediate. He slapped the hand aside, and then tipped Mime Bomb forward, exposing the sensitive skin where the bottom meets the thigh. Without a single word, Chase began raining down hard swats on the tender skin, and Mime Bomb bawled and cried shamelessly, this being the worst pain he'd ever felt. Although his cries were silent, Chase could still feel the way the boy's body was heaving with sobs, and he knew the boy couldn't take much more.

Mime Bomb's backside was a dark scarlet in color, and Chase could feel the heat rising from it with every swat. He concentrated all of his efforts on the tender spot and upper thighs, and Mime Bomb silently wailed in despair. Not knowing what else he could do, Mime Bomb threw his hands together in a pleading gesture, hoping that Chase would take pity on him and stop. Chase spared him a glance, but scowled at the boy's stubbornness. All he had to do was speak one single word and Chase would stop, but it seemed the boy was determined to do this the hard way.

Mime Bomb kicked out his legs uncontrollably, and it was then that the stamp fluttered out of his pocket. Chase paused as it caught his eye, and he stared down at the stamp in surprise. Realizing what it was, he hurriedly set Mime Bomb on his feet and only half pulled up the boy's pants. He gave him one final hard slap across the bottom and then pointed to the nearby corner.

"Stand there and put your nose in the corner." he ordered. "So much as move an eyebrow and I'll put you right back over my knee!"

Mime Bomb stumbled his way to the corner, crying harder than he ever had before, not even caring that his pants weren't up all the way. Chase knelt down and picked up the stamp, and then glanced over at Julia Argent who was staring up at the ceiling, clearly just waiting for this fiasco to end.

"See Julia? Sometimes it's the old-fashioned methods that work the best!"

Agent Argent's gaze snapped over to the stamp and her mouth dropped open in shock. The mime really **did** have the stamp! She glanced over at the sobbing boy in the corner, unable to believe a spanking really worked. She had no idea what to say.

"I-I will contact ACME and let them know..." she said, turning to leave the room to make the call.

Chase set the stamp down on the chair and then turned to Mime Bomb. "The authorities will be here to arrest you shortly. You are to keep your nose in that corner until I tell you to move, is this clear?"

Mime Bomb nodded and hugged his arms to his chest, unable to stop his sobs. Chase eyed him for a moment, and then glanced to the door, wondering why Julia was taking so long.

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"This is Agent Julia Argent." Julia greeted as she activated her pen communicator.

The face of The Chief appeared in front of her. "Afternoon, Agent Argent, how is your mission coming?"

"The stamp has been safely recovered."

The Chief seemed surprised by this. "Excellent!" she praised. "Where is your partner?"

"He is guarding the VILE operative we apprehended."

"You caught someone from VILE?!" the Chief demanded, her face coming closer to the camera.

"Yes, ma'am. It's a boy around twenty years of age that dresses as a mime."

The Chief's expression immediately became disinterested. "Oh, **him**." she said in distaste. "He's a nobody with no authority. About as bottom of the barrel as you can get."

Julia frowned but said nothing.

"Can Devineaux hear us right now?"

"No ma'am, we're alone."

"Good. There's something important I need to tell you Agent Argent, and your partner can't find out about it."

"What is it?"

"We're cutting Devineaux out of ACME."

Julia's eyes widened. "But he's an excellent agent!" she protested. "He's put in years of service!"

"Perhaps that's true, but he's simply not a good match for ACME. He's impulsive and it makes him a liability. I am sending a car to pick up you and the stamp, but Devineaux is staying behind."

Julia shook her head. "What am I supposed to say to him? We're partners!"

"Not anymore you're not. You're going to tell Devineaux he's on a new secret mission to protect that mime. Tell him he can't leave this bunker for any reason until he's contacted by me. Tell him the mime is vital to our mission, and he has to keep him hidden from VILE and Carmen Sandiego. I'll keep him here until Carmen Sandiego is apprehended and then I'll cut him loose."

"Is the mime actually important?"

"Of course not." The Chief replied rolling her eyes. "It's just something to keep Devineaux distracted and away from ACME affairs. The mime is a nobody."

Julia really didn't like this but gave a nod just the same.

"The car will be there in three minutes. Make your speech to Devineaux quick."

Julia gave another nod. "Yes, ma'am."

When the call ended, Julia took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and then re-entered the interrogation room.

"There you are!" Chase scolded. "What took so long?"

"The Chief has an important mission for you." she told him, unable to stop the guilt she felt over what she was about to do.

Chase gave her an alarmed look. "What is this mission?"

Julia pointed to the crying mime in the corner. "You are to guard the mime at all costs. He is absolutely vital to ACME plans and if he's lost, it will ruin our chances of catching Carmen Sandiego."

Chase's eyes widened. "That little boy is important?" he asked, clearly not believing her.

"Yes, the Chief didn't say why, but she assured me only **you** were qualified to guard him adequately. Something about you being the most senior agent on the force."

Chase's chest puffed out in pride. "All true, I suppose. How long do I need to watch him for?"

"The Chief said she will call you." Julia assured him. "Just wait here in the bunker until you hear from her."

Chase gave a nod, figuring a few hours wouldn't hurt. "And you, Miss. Argent?"

"I'm to bring the stamp to headquarters and then fill out paperwork. Lots of paperwork."

Chase grimaced. "Ugh, better you than me, Miss Argent, but I don't like the idea of you travelling by yourself with such a valuable stamp."

"I won't be. ACME is already on their way to get me. They should be out front any second now."

Chase nodded. "Very well then, Miss Argent, be on your way."

"Yes, Sir."

He picked up the stamp and handed it over to her. "I'll be fine here by myself. That clown won't be causing me any problems, otherwise his bottom might not survive it."

Mime Bomb flinched from where he stood, but didn't dare turn around.

There was a car's honk from outside, and Julia glanced towards the open door. "Remember not to leave the bunker, Chase. You don't have your key card and you won't be able to get back in."

Chase gave her nod.

"Goodbye, Sir." she said, heading towards the door.

"Good luck, Miss. Argent. See you soon."

Chase couldn't see the guilty look on her face as she fled the bunker. Once she was gone, Chase turned towards Mime Bomb who was still crying silently to himself.

"Keep your nose in the corner." Chase warned him, taking a seat in the chair. "You're not moving from there until someone comes to collect you."

Mime Bomb gave a nod and a loud sniff.

Little did Chase know, no one was coming. They were on their own.

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**There will be slash and many spankings in future chapters. I welcome comments as long as they're not flames. Here is the awesome comic done by Arkham Insanity.**

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